They often rode on horseback to meeting, but they usually walked on
the fine Sundays in spring. Ann had probably never been so happy in
her life as she was walking by Mrs. Polly's side to meeting that first
Sunday after her adoption. Most of the way was through the woods;
the tender light green boughs met over their heads; the violets and
anemones were springing beside their path. There were green buds and
white blossoms all around; the sky showed blue between the waving
branches, and the birds were singing.
Ann in her pretty petticoat of rose-colored stuff, stepping daintily
over the young grass and the flowers, looked and felt like a part of
it all. Her dark cheeks had a beautiful red glow on them; her black
eyes shone. She was as straight and graceful and stately as an Indian.
"She's as handsome as a picture," thought Mrs. Polly in her secret
heart. A good many people said that Ann resembled Mrs. Polly in her
youth, and that may have added force to her admiration.
Her new gown was very fine for those days; but fine as she was, and
adopted daughter though she was, Ann did not omit her thrifty ways for
once. This identical morning Mrs. Polly and she carried their best
shoes under their arms, and wore their old ones, till within a short
distance from the meeting-house. Then the old shoes were tucked away
under a stone wall for safety, and the best ones put on.
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